I debated going in here and confronting them, but public scenes were not my thing so I just muttered “Fuck it” to myself and headed for my favorit... watering hole.As I worked on my PBR I went over the happenings of the day and what they meant as far as my life was concerned. My marriage was toast. Didn’t matter to me if that night was just a ‘one off’ as our British cousins would say or the start of an affair. For all I knew it was the continuing of an affair since I had no idea of how long. Mitch then introduced me to his 2 friends, Grady and Harry . You can see they were at one time pro football players. Big hefty guys.We got to talking about how fine the dancer was. Grady was saying I bet you never had that much ass and tits in your hand before. I told him yes I did. My wife has more ass and tits than the stripper here.Grady wanted to know if my wife was white because no white woman is this fine. Mitch chirped in saying yes his wife is finer than the stripper, I had seen her. By now, however, John was attracting me and it wasn’t just his fluent conversation and occasional banter. So when he reached across the table to gently squeeze my hand I responded positively. John was caressing my arm, his fingertips just touching me. He lifted my wrist and looking me straight in the eye kissed my fingertips. “Let’s go somewhere a little less public,” he said, signalling the Maitre d’ for the bill. By the time we got to the door the car was waiting for us, engine running. . Hispanic? He thought in wonderment. A pull at his chest disrupted his train of thought. He cupped his nipples and felt the flesh under them shifting and building up in soft layers, one upon the other. There the skin pushed forward and languidly increased in mass. Taking his hands away revealed a pair of shapely, but not overly-developed breasts. John felt the muscle under them melt away as they grew bigger and bigger until they overfilled his palms and spilled out, quivering and trembling.